Prompt: Rain
by Ngoc Chau
Summary: Her knees adjusted to spread and place themselves on both sides of his hips. The pleated skirt she was wearing draped over their legs. Unabashed, she would not discriminate against an amatory tryst in a chair. Mayuri x Nemu, Part 11/12 of Proposal, lemon


**Ngoc Chau does not own Bleach**

**Hello to Reader! I have amazing news! MimiStriped was kind enough to grant a request for me and she did a dA pic for my fanfic  
><strong>"Love the Way You Lie**",  
>though most of you would know it as<br>"**Prompt: Break**".  
>It's an amazing pic with Nemu in a white robe, her hair undone and Mayuri nibbling on her neck, his hand snaking through the opening of Nemu's robe. It's quite good and my heart stops whenever I look at it! I just love it and I hope Reader loves it too. Here's the link:<strong>

**http: / browse .deviantart .com / ?order = 5&q = kurotsuchi# / d3jow2q**

**Can you believe this string is a prompt away from finishing? Stay tuned for the next string! It involves Nemu and babies!**

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><p><strong>Prompt: Rain<strong>

Nemu loved to see rain.

There was something calming about it; to see the sea descend upon the earth, washing everything away. Outside the window, the skies had grown grey and black, miniscule streaks of light came upon the streets and the rushing of water filled the silence throughout. She was tempted to open the window, she had pulled up a chair near the ledge to have a good seat as well as a good view, and stick her hand out just to feel the spitting of rain on her palm. But she dared not for it would only attract wind into the room and disturb the papers that were lying about. Their bags and finds had been packed away, ready for the Senkaimon that they would take tomorrow morning for their return to the Soul Society.

All that remained now was to enjoy the free time that they so rarely got from his constant drive to work and the business of balancing souls in worlds. Nemu's copy of the Seireitei Communication rested open on her lap as she had preoccupied herself with it before it started raining, and then her attention became divided for the rain outside.  
>She had heard a friend mention something about the rain: that it was perhaps the only thing in the world that could join connect the skies to the ground. She had considered snow and sleet, of the air itself. But rain was beautiful and so she liked the rain.<p>

She could smell the curry from the kitchen and the rice was waiting in the cooker. Boiled greens were cooling on the table.  
>All that was left to do was to wait for Mayuri to come back to have his dinner. Her eyes traveled briefly to the ground, hoping then that that would be the moment that she would see him walking up to the steps. The light was going away and it was getting darker that she had to turn on the light, the sunlight no longer offered adequate illumination. He had gone back to the Urahara shop. Why? He did not specify and Nemu knew better than to question him incessantly about it. If he had wanted her to know, he would've told her; otherwise it was his own business and she should stick her big nose out of it.<p>

And so she was content to wait for him, silence and rain as her company.

She recalled a fond occasion with the rain: one that had occurred a few months since her 'debut' to the rest of the shinigami of the Gotei 13. Mayuri had dressed her in white and lavender, light colours that he had an excess of and thought to put to some use. She had thanked him profusely in her own silent way, but he knew the great extent of her gratitude. There had been no report for rain, but rain had come nonetheless. Both had run for cover under some arbitrary roof of a building.  
>He had held her hand and pulled her to a dry spot. There had seemed to be no sign of stopping and so he had told her that they make a run for it back to their division. He would introduce her to the Eighth division captain another time. They had returned sopping wet to their divisions, his arm over her in an effort to keep some of the rain out of her long hair. Such a gesture had never been done again from what she could remember.<p>

She never mentioned it again to him nor did she try to dwell so much upon it in case it should embarrass him.

And suddenly, she felt his presence, a tingle in her spine that warned her that he was coming nearer. Her gaze moved from the distance of the horizon to the steps leading up to the house that they were currently staying in. She would've recognized him if not for the umbrella, yet the umbrella had given some indication to the identity of its wielder for there was the tell-tale brushstrokes that spelled out "Mayu-chan"(another detail that should be mentioned to Reader was the hearts and stars that framed the name). She appeared quickly before the door and opened it for Mayuri, who stood before the door, he had omitted his tie and the white shirt was unbuttoned casually, with an umbrella in one hand: There was no air of professionalism about him nor seriousness, but she could see the bags under his eyes and the age lines about his frowning mouth that he was exhausted and exasperated.

She welcomed him into the house quickly and took his umbrella for him. Before her, he had the appearance of his age(in a certain way, Reader) and she felt more of an admiration for remembering his centuries of experience and his status as her superior. Nemu followed after him upstairs to their part of the house that they were renting. She told him what was on the menu for dinner and he replied nothing, she took this to be a sort of approval that he would not be picky and complain about the food. He discarded his jacket on the hook and she carefully placed the umbrella in the corner. As soon as the two of them entered the room and Nemu retrieved a bowl of rice for him, there was the mad rumble of thunder and an instantaneous flash from the window. The lights suddenly went out and the rooms were all dark. Another disturbance: the landlady knocked upon the door and asked if they had lost their electricity too, so had the entire block.

Nemu answered her civilly and soon made it clear that she was not needed nor wanted.

The landlady could not have any complaints for the polite manner in which the disguised shinigami chased her away.

Reader; Mayuri stood up, the gears in his brain already working to how he would have to remedy this problem with such primitive technology and devices that the real world had to offer for humans.

Nemu did not want him troubled and so she quickly asked him if eating by candlelight would be okay just for tonight, as they would be leaving tomorrow.

He looked dumbly at her as though in surprise and shrugged his shoulders, giving his attentions to the meal that she had set up before him. He ate in silence and hazy lights as Nemu was busy in filling the darkness and obscurity with some degree of light that there would not be any unfortunate business of bumping or crashing in the dark.  
>It was very soon after that she returned to have her meal with Mayuri and the two of them ate without a word shared between them. Eating was never a time for conversation, conversation would only distract and interrupt time for eating, he had told her once when she was very young. She agreed with his idea and had stuck to it ever since. Though it did not stop her from pondering and thinking, and guessing and imagining as she ate.<p>

Oddly enough, this meal was reminding her of another shared meal that had taken place some weeks ago when she had ventured to try out Matsumoto Rangiku's steps for seduction. The seduction itself was not significant to her memory nor the dinner itself as it was as ordinary as could be for the both of them. But it was the evening and its ending that suddenly resurfaced in her mind, and left her an intense pang of discomfort.  
>Her toes fidgeted together and she bit her tongue to keep from crying out at the memory. It had been so long. That had been so long. After their marriage was discovered among the Gotei 13 and even when the miracle of everyone's memories of the event being wiped away…<br>They still had not found the time nor inclination to be come together. She continued eating her meal, ignoring the stirrings inside of her at the memory of her past desire. She had done well recently to overlook it and fill it with work as her father had always did, but the simple thought of it brought new flames to her belly. Her heart beat rapidly and she was almost sure that her blood was flushing across her cheeks in a most unwanted manner.

She tried to think of metal and cloth, of scalpels and blood. She thought of the corpses of test experiments that would be waiting for her when she returned to the Soul Society. Ice, potions, and chemicals came to mind and it did nothing to stifle her, but made her long for him and his body all the more. Dwelling more upon it, this was their very last night before they would have to return to the Soul Society, to perhaps a new distance to assure that no one would ever know about them again. She could have very well wept for the unfotunate fate that might await the two of them if she ever made her affections known to him as freely as she had before.

She looked across the small table to him. His golden eyes flicked up at her from the glass he was currently taking a sip from. She wondered if he had heard her, had known what she was thinking. She held on to the hopelessness that perhaps he had been too absorbed in his meal to bother acknowledging what she had been thinking about.

He placed his drink down upon the table and beckoned her to him with an utter of her name, "Nemu."

Obediently, she abandoned meal and utensils, and approached him. She fell to her knees as his side. He looked at her with those wide golden eyes that probed and searched and dilated whenever sparked with interest. She felt it from him, he wanted it too though surely not as badly as she did, no he did not…  
>Her white hands made the first move, placing them over his darkened hand. She kissed his knuckles, then turned his hand over to place deep kisses from the base of his middle finger to his wrist where the blue veins bulged. She felt his pulse quicken just like hers. Releasing his hand, she bowed low on her hands and knees, kissing his feet. Her hands gripped his heel, her lips moved higher to his shin.<br>Bolder, her fingers slinked up under his pants to the back of his knee; her lips made contact to the spot borderline knee and thigh. His flesh was evermore cold under her touch and she felt him quiver. The higher her hands and digits reached under his pants, the closer her lips and kisses got to _there_. Her hands had ceased when it reached a few inches of his inner thigh, the flesh smooth and supple under her tips; her lips had just placed a deep breathy kiss atop the high of his thigh, close to what she hoped would enter inside her finally after so long and after so much sadness and hurt. His hips jumped and collided with her nose but she made no complaint. Her fingers dug into his leg, she rose up higher to place kisses upon his stomach, then his solar plexus, chest…

Her hands had slunk out from beneath his pants as she came closer to level with him, her mouth now on a patch of skin that the unbuttoning of the first two buttons of his white shirt had revealed to her. She sucked upon the skin; from an obscure portion of her vision, she saw him tilt his head back. His hands were on her, one dug into her shoulder while the other gripped her rear. She heard a raspy gasp from him. Finally, her lips made it to his jaw line, chin… She placed a gentle kiss on his lips, sucking slightly on the bottom lip.  
>But the kiss was gratefully interrupted as his lower hand pushed her up higher on his body and his tongue dove into her mouth. She welcomed it and allowed it free exploration.<p>

Her knees moved and adjusted to spread and place themselves on both sides of his hips. The pleated skirt she was wearing draped over his thighs and a portion of her soles. Caught up in the moment, she would not discriminate against an amatory tryst in a chair at the dinner table(It would not be the first time, Reader).

He separated their kiss to growl against her cheek, close by her ear, "Not here."

She obeyed immediately and removed herself from his lap, not bothering to straighten the fuku outfit she still sported. The two of them made their way into his bedroom upstairs of the house where for the past week they had been staying in the real world, he was kept company only with his insomnia and a drive to work and read. The bed had been untouched by her.

She thought that he would want to be inside her quick and attempted to peel away the skirt and shed the blouse over her head, but he had stopped her instead and forced her to a position on the side of the bed. Her legs dangled off of the edge while the rest of her was supported by the surface of the bed, lying back.

She tossed her head about on the bed, her fists closing on themselves, as he teased her; his tongue tracing circles on her flat tummy and around the dip of her navel. Her toes curled and gripped between them the fabric of the dark stockings she wore with the fuku uniform. She gasped out his name, "Mayuri-sama." And she begged him with a repetition of, "Please, oh please…"

He did not tell her to be quiet, his mouth and tongue already too busy with sucking on the sensitive skin of her stomach. His large hands rubbed upwards from her heel to her hip under her skirt, she wished that the stockings were gone altogether so that she could have felt his palm on her, the cold of him on her flesh. His hands tugged the panties down her hips and slid them down her legs, they were laid forgotten on the floor once her toes exited the openings.  
>His tongue, long and rather beast-like, slunk out of his mouth and moistened his lips and sides of his face. She shivered at the sight of it for it brought her discomfort, however she would not voice it and instead wait to appreciate what said tongue could be capable with its length and strength as demonstrated whenever he spoke and commanded. She could almost expect what was going to happen next and it did.<p>

His tongue worked wonders on her as his fingers had always been known to. Her head went dizzy with it, eyes crossing and barely able to compose herself. She gasped loudly, screamed just how he liked it. His fingers clawed into her as his mouth had its way with her flower and she would've wrapped her long covered legs around him if not for his elbows that pinned her knees flat apart.  
>Her back arched forward, her mouth a round <em>O<em> and such sounds escaping through her mouth. She shook and felt her heart close to bursting out of her ribcage(she would know, Reader). Her hands tangled themselves in her own hair, loosening the braid from its proper state as well as messing up the locks. Her chest was pulled to the ceiling, a reversal of gravity to her body, as her head and hands and elbows desperately tried to support each other. Her back left the bed completely. She felt his tongue flick across the petals of her and his mouth suck at the little bud as though it was a piece of candy. It was virtually indescribable to recall what she felt like under his mouth, what he was capable of doing with that talented tongue and lips that had received an unexpected benefit from countless modifications done to himself and centuries of screaming at his subordinates and underlings.

She shrieked loud for him as she shook and pleasure struck at her like a whip. Lightening struck right at the pinnacle of her scream and thunder growled as her body shook. She slowly settled back upon the bed, her legs dead and limp. She did not breathe heavily, yet her chest heaved with each silent inhale. Her face flushed red as though she had gone without air. He settled between her legs, coming level with her face to face. She locked gaze with him, green eyes growing tipsy and overpowered by golden ones. He broke contact as he eyed her rising chest.

He need not have said it and he knew it.

From the way his licentious eyes looked at her and how his hands brushed against her exposed legs and hips indicated what he wanted of her next. She moved away from him, seating herself on the bed and she proceeded to rid herself of her garments and all fabric that would separate the two of them. He had seated himself on the edge of the bed and quickly divested himself as well. She was fair in keeping up with him.  
>As she unclipped the bra she wore and cautiously let it drop over the footboard of the bed, her eyes went to Mayuri's back.<p>

Scars decorated his skin as markings of the macabre and they were proof that she was indeed in love with a mad man and sadistic psycho. And she could've cared any less; he was who he was and she was as he had created her. There were hundreds of reasons to fear him yet she found them weak and unstable compared to the facts that he had made her from nothing and had kept her close by his side.

He was as bare as she was, as he turned around to her and she knew from him that he wanted her.

Gingerly, she went to him and crawled atop his lap. Her hand gripped the headboard as she settled on top of him. Her legs were bent and her knees reached into his pits, her feet were planted firmly behind him. She was secured to him by his arms that closed around her like death's grip and his hands were grapples that were sure that she would not fall or escape him. She felt _it _bump against her and rest upon her pelvis. His grin was wide and cunning, dividing his face in two.  
>He was thoroughly enjoying her fluster at having it be in want of her and he would not yet allow her satisfaction. She whimpered and he laughed into her neck as his head bowed over. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and throat, the little cat fingers brushing by his rubbery scars that simply refused to go away as he was constantly opening them for internal repairs and modifications. She leaned her head on him and moaned his name, she rubbed her chest against his own.<p>

He practically grunted her name, the mention of it made her heart skip two beats. His arms loosened their hold on her and she felt herself rising, their hips involuntarily bumped against each others. She let out a shuddering cry as she felt him enter her and her cry became all the more breathy when she sunk down on his length. Her head tossed backwards and her arms tightened their grip on his, she frantically moved her hips forward. Hungry only for him after an absence of so long.

She was met with a discomforting pain as she moved and could not understand why it should hurt so. He on the other hand appeared to be enjoying this for he could not contain himself - for surely he had felt as desperate as her the past couple of months with his teasing and mutual denial of each other - and moaned as they copulated together. She regarded his face, noticing that his eyes had rolled back and his mouth remained agape.  
>Thankfully, he had noticed something about her own enthusiasm counter usual reactions and his movements slowed as he sucked upon her neck and his hands had manoeuvred themselves well enough to still wrap the arms about her but reach and fondle her breasts. She chewed on her lips and she was grateful to him. The discomfort was quickly gone and replaced with sensuality and an acute ache that begged to be tended to. And tended to, it was, by both partners' ardent charging.<p>

Their hips grinded against each others'. As like a broken record, she repeated his name over and over again through pursed mouth and bruised lips from his brutal kisses that he administered each time one of their hips moved in a certain way that pleased him the most.

One arm had remained as it was: wrapped around her hips and gripping tighter her rear whenever his hips would suddenly jump from his seat to come at her. The other hand had made its way to her hair, tangling in its messy mound, and pulling it back to have better access to her neck and collar. He kissed it and left love bites which further excited her and welled tears in her eyes that she could not control to cease it. The coupling was not what touched her, it was the fulfillment she felt for finally being with the man she so admired and worshipped. She cried for the pleasure of it all and for the fact that he was in her arms and there with her.

Their thoughts melted with each others', a medley of want and need and - dare I say, Reader - adoration from both parties.  
><em>Please! A little longer! Keep going! More! Oh yes! I've wanted this for so long! Could you imagine how much I thought I would die without you? I was so scared to lose you! I'm always here. I've wanted you! Please! Tell me that you like this! Yes! Yes! Yes! I want to be good to you! It hurts! Move it lower here! Closer! Come closer! Lean back! You are so good! So warm! Yes! Yes yes yes! Don't stop! Take me! Bite it! Ah, it feels so good! Turn. There… there… ah, so close! Here, do it like this. Yes, higher. Deeper… Don't be so afraid! Come into me, yes, just like that… put your hand there. Ooh… OH! Where did you learn that? Please! Hold me! I don't care, but please hold me close! Listen. What? Can you hear it? It's fast. Faster. Touch me here. Oh! Oh! Harder! Yes. Like that? Close it tighter! Nnow! Tell me that you like this. Tell me what you want. What a good girl, good girl...<em>

As he held her on his lap and she straddled him, their foreheads touched each others. Their breaths mingled, noses crossed. The fringe of her dark hair mixed with his shocking blue. He grunted her name as his hands continuously moved her to a time he found pleasurable. Her hands wound themselves in his hair, carefully cradling his head as their enthusiastic thrusts continued. She shut her eyes tight, overcome with contentment and ecstatic, and her breaths came out ragged, open-mouthed. His lips quickly assailed hers. Their mouths slipped away, moist, and their cheeks moulded against each others'.

Their moves became more erratic and impassioned. He bit her shoulder and she felt the pain acutely. Her nails dug into him, careful not to open any of the old and new scars.  
>She felt him release inside her, cold just like he always was. He had gone still then trembled violently. He held her to him, his guiding had stopped and she heard him breathe heavily on the spot between her collar and her shoulder. His breath was a ghost on her sticky flesh. Her body was still experiencing jolts, it was virtually futile to stop it.<br>Her completion did not come but was compensated just by the fact that he had held her close to him, tighter. That was to say, she was not unsatisfied nor did she feel lacking at all. A dull longing pain, sensual in a way, was left when he had finished but she did not mind it for he had not cast her out of his arms once he had what he had wanted. Instead, he had kept her in his large hands, dark and scarred as the rest of him.  
>She kissed his lids, the tip of his nose, his cheeks, and chin.<p>

With easeful and swift manoeuvring, he had turned the both of them so that both of them were laid out awkwardly on the length of the bed. She felt the absence of him when he slipped out to be something akin to heartbreaking; it was then that she remembered that this was now and not before, that there was nothing to interrupt them when they were far away in the real world. She tried to hold him, keep this fleeting moment and dream nearer to her for all she could.  
>He kicked his legs, both of them moving downwards on the bed, and then they were comfortable, save that one of them - she could not tell - was laying atop her hair and was making it difficult for her to turn. He trapped her, caged her with his body. They faced in the same direction, towards the window that overlooked the side of the bed. She acknowledged that the rain outside was still not letting up and she conjured up a brief disappearing smile at the sight of blue and black and white.<p>

Nemu allowed herself the luxury of a deep breath, heavy inhale followed by a contented exhale. She had wanted to turn her body to hold Mayuri in her arms, but his hold on her had her immobilized in his grip. His face buried itself in her shapely shoulder: cheek on the blade, nose on the edge. Her back was to his front, she felt the clock-like tick of his heart on her spine. Her hands were sandwiched and pressed between her cheek and the overly sized pillow that the landlady had supposedly supplied. Her hip was raised and supported by his left arm under her, the other arm was draped over her form and the hand of it cupping and fondling her breast. Their legs tangled and wrapped around each other that it greatly resembled four snakes mating. Though she would've very much liked to pull the sheets over them, especially to keep her father warm. She could not move nor did she have the heart to do anything but lie there and hope he was receiving warmth from her body. She moved her right arm to drape back over her father and pressed her palm to his back. His hold on her became tighter and closer.

I love you, was what should be said in such situations and places. But she could not utter the words for the 'love' of him. He hated incorrect labelling. Another of her hand moved from its place between her cheek and the pillow. It touched his slow one that was on her breast. She sensed him falling asleep.

She muttered out loud, half unaware that her thoughts were being repeated by mouth, "Mayuri-sama… I…" a beat here, a pause for some unknown word that did not exist for what was shared between them; what was not love, but just as strong if not more than love, "…you."

His lips brushed her shoulder, inciting shivers on that spot there; he kissed the flesh fully and deeply.

There was his light snoring that filled the room.

Her near silent breathing.

The pitter-patter of falling water.

Outside, the rain continued falling.

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><p><strong>How was it? Was it IC enough? What did you think?<strong>

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**So, there's only one more prompt left before this string is done.**


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